


Look

by ViridianPanther



Series: Thirty Days [18]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Biotics, Gen, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianPanther/pseuds/ViridianPanther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of London. Jack is wounded. Ensign Prangley carries her to safety, before the imminent arrival of a Reaper demands that he does something clever, super-human—and deadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look

**Author's Note:**

> Posted the drabbles in the wrong order. Dammit.
> 
> And I'm probably fanwanking the abilities of a human biotic for the purpose of this fic. I don't really care.

"Look," Prangley says, "you're wounded. Get yourself out of here."

_"No!"_

"I'm serious, ma'am! Get safe! Now!"

"Ssssss… shhh… _fuuuuuuuuck!_ " Jack screams, blood oozing from the bullet wound on her side. "If I bleed to death, Prangley, I'll fucking haunt your ass!"

"Shut up and get inside," Prangley grunts, grabbing her, gunfire pattering on the blue bubble surrounding them both. Safety. Where was safest? Underground. _UNDERGROUND. TOWER HILL STATION._

"Don't you dare go back out there," Jack spits, stumbling down the staircase to the platforms. There's a train there, and Prangley sits her down on one of the seats, slaps on some medi-gel. Her breathing slows, still pained, but bearable.

"Better?"

"A bit—"

_BOOM._

"Shit!" The world shakes, and the lights inside the car flicker.

No time. No time to argue. No time to say goodbye.

"I'm going up there. _Stay down here,_ " Prangley yells, bolting up the staircase.

"What are you doing?" he hears Jack bellow from the stairwell, and she's probably crawling out onto the platform, screaming, and he doesn't— _can't_ look back as he vaults through the old fare gates and clambers up the short hill—

_HOOT._

The face of Death looks him in the eye, a dreadful red shadow falling over Tower Hill. Action. Quick. No time to think. What Prangley has been trained to do.

A surge of energy stabs through his spine, and a blue corona flares around his fingers as he searches for a target.

_Bringing down a Reaper with biotics. This is crazy._

There. The Shard, that pyramid-shaped skyscraper, much of its glass frontage shattered. It'll be the last thing he ever does, but he hasn't got a better idea.

Breaths. Slow, deep breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Prangley flares, spiking bright blue, and swings his fists forward.

### Across London...

"My god! Look at the Shard!"

I peer through the window, at the terrible leviathan straddling the Thames, and she's right: the Shard is glowing blue. It's like an electrical storm's forming at its base, swirling, tempestuous, and…

_it's moving._

"Jesus," I whisper, as the building gently, silently _cracks_ , twisting from its base, tilts, teeters,

falls,

falls,

falls,

_flares_ with biotic blue and with a _CRASH_ sinks the Reaper under the wreckage of London Bridge and Tower Bridge.

Then comes the sound wave, the most tremendous roar I can ever remember.

And I can't help but look on in shock.


End file.
